Not Anyone's Colony
by AssassinsForTheWin
Summary: The countries are in a state of surprise and excitement when it comes to the world's attention that a new nation has been discovered. Savania is a young and incredibly smart country that has hidden her tracks since her birth. Now that she's decided to come out of hiding, she wants to spend time getting to know everyone else. Friendship. Romance. Danger. Hetalia.
1. A New Nation

Australia stood at the front of the little boat, one foot up on the bow and a hand shielding his face from the sun. Behind him sat an old man with a scraggly beard, rowing along rather abysmally. "You sure you know what you're doin', mate?"

The man only huffed.

Australia was pretty sure this guy was nuts, but decided to humor him, because why not? So far though, there was nothing. The apparently evil koala on his shoulder yawned.

And then suddenly, the mist cleared to reveal a rather large island. "Crikey!" Australia cried, jumping up and waving his arms. "Well I'll be a monkey's uncle, mate, you were right!"

"Harumph."

**~Hetalia~**

The world's countries sat at the long table. "Exactly _vhy_ are ve here again?" said Germany with his arms crossed.

"Didn't you hear the news?" replied Britain, setting down his cup of tea.

"_Oui~!_" cried France, clasping his hands together. "_Monsieur Australie_ has discovered a new nation!"

The room broke out into curious chatter. A new nation? There hadn't been a new nation in decades! "Vait a minute, vait a minute," said Germany, his brows furrowed over closed eyes. "A nation? A _true_ nation?"

"As far as we know, yeah dude! A real nation!" replied America, excitement written all over his face.

"Let's put it this way—it's not Sealand," snarked Britain with a smirk.

A somewhat random "Hey!" erupted from outside the room.

"But how has this nation not been discovered before? If it is trury rarge enough to be a proper nation, how has it gone unnoticed for so rong?" inquired Japan.

"Only time will tell," Britain responded, looking at the door. "Australia said he would be bringing them along today."

"Oh I just love new nations!" France cooed. "Zey're so teeny and cute! Ah Britain, do you remember when America was zat little?"

Glancing at the young country now, Britain exhaled and had to say he missed those days. "I dunno France; we spent a lot of his early childhood fighting over him."

"_Honhonhon~_" France chortled, blush crawling across his face.

The clock ticked on and still no Australia. Then suddenly, the door burst open, scaring everyone, and in strode the Aussie himself. "G'day mates! Sorry I'm late, we had a little, er. . . 'problem'. But it's all good now!"

"So where is _le petite pays?_"

"Oh, you mean—" when Australia looked around, he noticed there was no one behind. "Wha? Where is the little. . . ? Savania, we talked about this! Come on, they just want to meet you."

The door creaked open. The countries all craned their necks to catch a glimpse. Well except for Italy, who's mind was somewhere off in space as he twirled his signature curl around his finger. The door opened even more, but what surprised them all was the person that came from it. They'd all been expecting a young child, no higher than your hip, and instead they found a teenager.

Coming out from behind her big brother, the new nation faced the countries with shy, closed eyes. "Hello," she said, her voice as Aussie as the Aussie himself. "I'm Savania."

The room erupted once again, but this time into never-ending questions. Savania was very overwhelmed, and abruptly shouted "_Shut up!_"

The countries grew quiet.

"One at a time, please?"

Australia nudged her. "Savi, open your eyes."

The girl sighed and did so. Behind her spectacles were two eyes of two different colors. Her left one was dark, emerald green while the other was a rich turquoise.

"Woah man, your eyes are cool!" America piped up.

A miniscule smile crawled across Savania's cheeks. "Thanks you," she said. "Now I know you've all got questions. But I can only answer so many at once."

"How long have you been around, and why haven't we met you before?" asked Britain quizzically.

Savania glanced up at Australia. "I'm glad _you_ asked me this, Britain. And yes, I know who most of you are. Back when Aussie here used to be a penal colony, there was this ship on its way over. Instead of the New South Wales, they ran into me. I was a pretty big island, and I'm honestly surprised you hadn't run into me sooner. But the convicts, being convicts, kept their discovery secret. And since my founder Marcus Savan knew how to live on a deserted island, they thrived. My population grew as more people stumbled into me, but were sworn to secrecy by the. . . shall we say, 'government', at the time. As technology progressed, I sent out one or two person teams to collect information, all in secret. So I'm just as developed as any of you." Okay, so that last remark was a little passive aggressive, but could you blame a girl? Explaining her existence to a bunch of older dudes who were judging her every word was weird to say the least. "I know exactly who most of you are, and the rest of the world isn't as closed to me as I am to it."

"But if you came from Australia on British convicts, then. . . ?"

"My island was undiscovered, Britain. It wasn't owned by anyone until Marcus found it. I wasn't a colony; I'm still not."

"Wow. So you chose to be ignored?" murmured a voice softly. Everyone looked around, wondering who had spoken.

Savania only smiled. "Yes, Canada. I wanted to be ignored."

"Canadia, bro! When did you get here?"

"I've always been here. . . ."

"But why _did_ you hide from us?" asked Japan.

"Because I didn't wanna end up like America. Controlled by someone else my whole life, and then painfully breaking off from them? No thanks."

"Ha! What's wrong with being like America?" the dirty-blonde laughed.

Savi rolled her eyes. "America, you're in a hole with China so deep, I don't even think your eagle could fly you out."

America opened his mouth to retaliate, but for once had nothing to say. France raised his hand slightly and said, "Tell us about yourself, _ma chérie_. Who are you, as a nation?"

"Hm." Savania had to think about that. "Well my national colors are dark green, light green, and gold. My flag is checkered green with a pawprint on it, symbolizing my love of nature and reputation as perhaps the best dog breeder on the planet. I mean, horses too, but whatever y'know? I do a lot of radio shows and video gaming, but Aussie told me not to wear my headset today. I'm good at archery too, I guess. I'm kind of tomboyish, and I tend to hang out in the woods by myself. I'm not used to attention, like, at all, so this is really freaky for me."

"Why did you decide to come out now, Savania? Were you _afraid_ of us?" America teased.

Savi snorted and crossed her arms. "In your dreams, 'Murica, _I'm_ not afraid of anything. I thought that my people were strong enough to handle it. I'm not a little nation anymore, and I can take care of myself. Plus, I thought it would be funny to see you all freak out, but it really wasn't to be honest. I realized that times were changing, and that it was probably best to quit while I was ahead, instead of being caught and claimed by some douchecanoe."

America snickered. "Douchecanoe. . . ."

"So, I sent someone out to get Australia and bring him to me."

Germany cleared his throat. "Fehl Savania, vhat did you expect vhen you decided to reveal yourself?"

"If you're asking me if I've got an army, the answer's yes. Not a big one, granted, not nearly as big as any of yours, but I'm prepared to defend myself. Honestly, I expected everyone to flip out and. . . I dunno, start World War III over me. It's actually why we were late, since we argued all this morning about it. I _won't_ be anyone's colony. But I do think it's a good idea to get to know everyone. So, if you'll have me, I'd like to spend a year in each of your houses _as an ally_. I'm not your servant, and I've already spent my time with Australia. So who's next?"


	2. Hi Ho Britainland!

Savania was finally able to sit down and relax. Since she arrived, she had to make sure her dogs were okay at Britain's house all by themselves, exchange her feathers[1] for pounds (which was a hassle), and then go have tea with the royal family! She plopped down on Britain's couch, her canines clambering over her in excitement. Giggling, Savania batted them away. "Alright, okay, good to see you too."

"Did you have fun today, Savania?" said Britain, heading towards the kitchen.

"Oh yeah! The queen is _hilarious_." She turned to kneel and peer over the back of the couch. "Do you have anything planned for dinner? I don't mind cooking if you don't."

Britain seemed surprised. "Nonsense! Only America would make you do that! How's black pudding sound?"

Savania grinned. "Sure. How are you and America anyway? I know what happened, but. . . ."

Britain scoffed. "Oh he's a git. Always will be. But. . . he's a good git, I suppose. I don't hate him for the war. I just hope I can say the same for him."

"Well he doesn't seem like he hates you. Anymore, at least."

"Looks can be deceiving. If anyone's taught me that, it was America. Now enough of the doom and gloom! It's high time you got the British experience you've been missing out on."

**~Hetalia~**

"I dunno why everyone says you're a bad cook. I mean, I wouldn't call you a master chef, but you're not bad."[2]

"I purposely botch it for everyone else."

A seemingly random voice snickered nearby. Britain, apparently recognizing the voice, parted a pair of bushes and furrowed his thick eyebrows. "Sealand, what the bloody hell are you doing here?"

The little boy crossed his arms and pouted. He had dark green streaks of paint on his face, in an effort to conceal himself better. "Well you guys never acknowledge me at meetings, and I wanted to meet the new nation!"

Savania pushed Britain aside as Sealand got up off the ground. "Sealand, was it?"

"Yes," he replied shyly, casting his eyes down.

Savi tousled his hair. "You're a micronation, right?"

Sealand frowned. "Well technically I guess, but I'm still a country!"

"Of course you are! A country's a country, micro or not. If anyone understands that, it's me."

"Really?"

Savi smiled. "Oh yeah. Do you wanna know a secret?"

With a vigorous nod, Sealand lent her his ear.

"When I came out, I was afraid no one would see me as my own country, but a territory to claim. It was really scary. But y'know what? Everyone was really nice to me, and I realized my fears were ill-founded. You can't force people to recognize you, but if you give them a reason, you won't have to."

Sealand gave Savania a huge hug. "Wow, Savania! You're really nice. Much nicer than mean ole Britain!"

"Oi!"

With a mischievous giggle, the boy bounced back into the bushes. "See ya later!"

Over the next few months, Britain showed Savania some of his favorite places in the UK; London Bridge, Westminster Abbey, Stonehenge, the Scottish highlands, and those were just a few! She got to meet Wales and Scotland, whom she took almost an immediate liking to, and now they were on their way to Ireland and his Northern brother. Even though he wasn't technically part of Great Britain, he was still a British Isle, and therefore it was Britain's job to introduce them.

He turns his back for thirty seconds, and _poof~_!

Bye-bye Savania.

Britain and Northern Ireland searched for her and Ireland everywhere, to the point where North gave up and went home. Britain started to worry. He was going to promptly kill Ireland when he found him. Right after Australia killed Britain first.

On the verge of panicking, Britain entered a pub, knowing Ireland well enough, and was relieved to find both him and Savania safely inside. His relief was soon dashed to horror as he realized what the girl was doing.

Standing up on a table, Savi was without her glasses and had her aqua jacket in her fist, swinging it around and singing with all the Irishmen, "_And it's all for me grog!_" _Clap clap_. "_Me jolly, jolly grog._" _Clap-clap_. "_It's all for me beer and tobacco~!_"

"Savania!" Britain cried, his eyes going white. "For God's sake, get off the table!"

"_Heeey_~, Britainland! What're you doin' 'ere? Oh sod it, come have a pint w' me!" the Savanian laughed, tossing her jacket onto is face and continuing to dance.

"Oi, when I heard there was a new country, I didn't expect her to be this fun!" said Ireland, taking a good swig of his drink. "She can stay, this lass!"

"Oh Ireland, you're too kind. Hey Bri—oi!" What Savania hadn't noticed was Britain coming over and grabbing her around the waist, pulling her from the table, her jacket and glasses in hand. "Gerrof me y'pommie bastard!"

By the time he dragged her all the way home, she was fast asleep, drool dribbling from her mouth. Britain lay her on the guest bed and threw the blanket over her, propping her head in case she threw up in her sleep. Britain shook his head, but couldn't help smiling; Savania was quite the happy drunk [3].

**~Hetalia~**

Britain had been thinking lately, and his thoughts troubled him. Savania, for all intents and purposes, had come from him, and as such, was technically his little sister. He'd been worried that she hated him for neglecting her, just like the last little sibling he'd had. And though he hadn't been there for Savania before, he decided he was going to from now on, even after this "pseudo-colony"[4] thing was over.

Britain looked up as Savania walked by. She seemed happy, and definitely not in an I-hate-Britain mood. "Good morning, Savania," he said quietly.

"Morning Britain! Hey, do you kn—What's the matter mate, you seem down?"

Britain exhaled. "Not down, just thinking. I realized today that I abandoned you when you were little. You must have hated me."

Savania furrowed her brows. She sat down beside him. "Britain, there's something you need to know. . . ."

**~Chibivania~**

Savania blinked her eyes slowly open. She sat up and looked around, gazing out across the sparkling ocean. She sat upon the sand, confused. How had she got there? Looking at herself, she was wearing a. . . prisoner's uniform[5]?! Her dark red hair was tied back and a prison cap sat on her head. Savania stood and turned to her left to see what appeared to be a settlement not far away[6]. Small hut-like structures sat on the top of a hill that dropped steeply off into the ocean.

The little chibi decided to visit the settlement, and failed to notice that the people there were beginning to stare at her. She watched with awe as a group of men were erecting what appeared to be a log cabin. They were upgrading! One of them turned his head and said, "Oi! A little girl like you shouldn't be around such a dangerous place. We're working here, y'know!"

She blinked up at the man. He had a familiar accent and bushy eyebrows. It triggered what could only be described as a memory, of a blonde man with similar features and the same accent. _Britain_ was the name that came with the image. Savania recognized him as her big brother. He sent the people that landed here and made her. Though she'd never met him, she found that she desperately wanted to.

Savania took a small step back. "Sorry." She was surprised by her own voice. It didn't sound like Britain's at all. _Australian_, that was it. She soon remembered her other older brother and wanted to meet him too.

The man's gaze softened. "Who are you little one? Where are your parents? And what the bloody hell are you wearing?"

Savania gazed down at herself again. She knew now why she was wearing this. It was what her first people were wearing. What Britain had sent them in. She realized he probably didn't even know she existed. Savi shrugged sadly. "I don't have any parents. It's a little hard to explain, sir."

"Marcus!" cried another Australian voice.

Approaching them was a young woman with a small child in her arms. "Gemma? What're you doing here, love?"

"Lizzy missed you."

"Hi Daddy~!" The child reached out and Marcus took her into his arms.

"Hello there, sweet pea!" Suddenly the attention was drawn back to Savania, who'd been standing there awkwardly. Marcus passed Lizzy back to her mother. "Gemma dear, take this child home, would you? She appears not to have one of her own."

As Marcus's wife took Savania to their home, she witnessed quite a few things unfold. A man in blue and a man in green were arguing over whether or not they should tell Britain about the land they'd found. Passing by a puddle, Savi saw that their clothes matched her eyes. The two men stopped arguing and decided to "take this to Savan". At the Savan household, one of the few log cabins there were, Savania and Elizabeth Savan bonded. After putting on something different to wear, the chibi heard a conversation taking place, all the way back with Marcus.

"We've grown considerably Marcus," said a Brit. "Ever since _la Signora_ crashed on our shore and stranded another 100-odd people."

"I know, I know."

"What does this mean, mate? What do we do? Do we call out for help?"

"No. We'll see how this pans out. If anything, Britain will want us locked up again. We're our own people now, mates. And it's high time we act like it."

"So what do you propose?"

"I think we need some sort of governing body, now with so many people to take care of."

"Agreed. I say the four of us gents make up a Parliament, with Marcus as our prime minister."

"Smart decision lads. Don't we need a name for ourselves now?"

Savania meanwhile had been drawing eyebrows on her face to match Britain's. Gemma Savan came up and asked what her name was. At the same time Marcus said it, the chibi replied with a smile, "Savania."

**~Hetalia~**

Britain stared at the floor. "So you. . . looked up to me?"

Savania nodded. "You've always been my big brother, Britain. Even if you didn't know it yet! It's why I wanted to come to you first—apart from Aussie of course."

Britain smiled and gave Savania a huge hug. "I promise I'll be the best big brother ever! I won't let you down!"

Savi chuckled. "And I promise I won't be another America."

The two laughed. Aw, bonding~. Looks like Britain's still got a soft spot after all.

* * *

><p>[1] Savania's currency. In modern times, they're banknotes with superb lyrebirds on them; but they used to be the tailfeathers of lyrebirds themselves. Natural inhabitants and Savania's national bird, lyrebird feathers were considered quite valuable to the early Savanians, and the term carried on. One feather is worth roughly 1.75 American dollars or 1.10 British pounds.<p>

[2] Since Savania originated from Britain and Australia (who originated largely from Britain himself), it's no surprise she isn't phased by the atrocity that is British cooking. She does however have good taste as well, thanks to the considerable Italian influence in her history.

[3] Savanians are highly-known for their love of mead. Since mead is basically fermented honey and water, this leads to the stereotypes that Savanians can't hold their liquor, and that all the sugar in mead makes them all sugar-happy drunks.

[4] The "discovery" of the new nation sent the world buzzing with curiosity and excitement. An emergency meeting of the UN took place, with Savanian Prime Minister Ross-Murray a special guest. He spoke about his country and presented a few souvenirs, demonstrating that the decision to reveal themselves was intended to be a peaceful one. An agreement was made that the world's countries and major regions would have one year worth of heightened trade and commerce, a so-to-speak "pseudo-colony". Unlike a true colony, the Savanian government could cut ties and move on to the next country/region if it so saw fit with absolutely no negotiation whatsoever, should the current country/region abuse their privilege and violate the treaty. This treaty (as introduced in the previous chapter) was called the Treaty of World Accommodation (TWA).

[5] British prisoners of the time wore plain white uniforms with the British broad arrow (a symbol of British ownership in terms of property) plastered all over it. This was the outfit Savan and his comrades landed upon Savania in, and thus the outfit the young country was born in. Though it doesn't fit her anymore, Savania keeps the outfit, to remind her of her proud past.

[6] The capital of Highshore in its earliest form. The log cabin Marcus and his mates are building later in the scene ends up the Capitol Building, rebuilt multiple times over the course of Savanian history.


	3. All's Fair in Love and Francey-Pants

May had come once again, and it was time for Savi to head off to France. Britain was giving her a lecture like an overprotective father, straightening her jacket and messing with her hair. "_Don't_ take any backroads, _don't_ talk to strangers, and _don't_ let France touch you. Okay?"

Savania blinked with irritation.

"Okay! Be good, make friends, and make France your ally and not your enemy! Bye!"

Savi rolled her eyes as she left and glanced back to wave goodbye. "Bye Britain!"

**~Hetalia~**

"_Mademoiselle Savanie! Bonjour!_"

"Hey France!"

Savania was surprised when he took her into a hug (grabbing her ass in the process) and kissed each of her cheeks. Right. Europe. "How are you _chérie_?"

"Great! Little trainsick, but eh."

"Are you sure zhat's not Britain's cooking?"

She rolled her eyes. "I assume you can do better?"

France snapped his fingers and raised his hand into the air. "But of course! You have not _tasted_ until you have had French food!"

Surprisingly enough, Savania wasn't completely repulsed by snails. And she hated to admit it, but France _was_ a better cook than Britain. By the end of the day, she was fit to burst. "By the time I'm done with all of you, I'll be fat as all hell," she joked.

"Nonsense! By zhe end of zhis, you will be a strong, smart, and beautiful young country. More zhan you already are, _a-honhonhonhon~_." Savania tried to ignore the suggestive tone as France sighed. "I have not seen zhe world at such peace in quite a long time. You have brought us all togezzer _ma chérie_, and for zhat I commend you. Zhe only question now is. . . how long will it last?"

"As long as no one violates the treaty," Savi replied frankly. All of a sudden, Savania's smallest pooch hopped onto France's shoulder and licked his cheek, making him laugh. "Well _salut_ little one!"

Savania giggled. "That's Florence, she's a shoulder dog."

"Shoulder dog?"

"Mm-hm. The southwestern part of my country is mostly desert and savanna, so when people started to settle there, they wanted durable dogs that could stand the heat, but travel with them on horseback too. So we bred little dogs that sit on our shoulders and are really tough and don't get hurt easily if they fall off."

"_Fascinant_," France murmured, offering a finger for Florence to sniff. "You mentioned horses as well at zhe meeting, no?"

"Yeah, we needed those too. Importing the base stock was tricky though, let me tell ya!"

"You did not steal, did you?"

. . . . Savania cleared her throat awkwardly.

"Savania!"

"I only smuggled a few. . . ! Batches. . . ."

France chuckled lightly. "You had better hope no one finds out, lest zhey be less forgiving zhan I."

Savi chortled sheepishly.[1]

**~Hetalia~**

It was time to go sightseeing again. The Eiffel Tower was terrifying[2], but everything else was amazing. As the sun began to set and tinge the sky hot pink, Savania gazed up at a golden statue with awe, their last stop in Paris. France, however, hung back, a little less fascinated. The statue was of Jeanne d'Arc, a historical hero of Savi's and one of her many inspirations. She looked back, her smile quickly fading at the sight of France's sadness. "France?" she murmured.

He glanced her way before looking down at the ground. "It is nozzing, _chérie_. Old scars, zhat is all."

Savania went back and sat with him on the bench. It wasn't hard to figure out why the country of love was upset at being reminded of an old French war hero. "You loved her. . . didn't you?"

France was silent, his face cycling between angry and heartbroken. "Jeanne d'Arc was a hero. She was zhe bravest woman I have ever known. She _saved my life_. And zhen she is ripped away by Britain and burned at zhe stake for cross-dressing." He angrily kicked at the air.

Silence between them, until Savania whispered, "I am so sorry." She reached up and gave him a hug, and she realized he was sniffling. She'd known the fate of Joan of Arc, but didn't know it affected France like this.

"_Merci_, Savania. It still pains me to zhink about, even today." He smiled. "But it makes it better when I know zhere are still ozzers zhat need me. An entire country."

Savania smiled back, and they got up to head home. "I remember when Charles Murray[3] died. He was only forty-seven years old."

"Charles Murray?"

"Oh I wouldn't be me without him. . . ."

**~Chibivania~**

It was a rainy day, and Savania, now at the apparent age of fifteen, was watching a new friend of hers fiddle with the computer in her basement. He'd claimed to be able to connect to any network in a matter of minutes. A small chime and he sat back with a smug look on his face. "Bingo. Savania is now international."

Savi squinted at the computer and played with it for a few seconds. "Wow, Charlie. You did it!"

"Told you I could. Now let's do something about those eyes."

She turned to question him, only for Charles to slide a pair of glasses onto her face. She blinked. Everything was so clear now! She wasn't blind anymore. "I can see!"

Charlie chuckled. "Now we don't have to keep sneaking around and stealing stuff."

Savi, who had become quite the klepto over the course of her years, blushed. "Thank you, Charlie. I really appreciate it."

"Anything for you, Savania. Now, there's something I wanna talk to you about. It involves the world and its information. . . ."

**~Hetalia~**

"He. . . he kept me secret when it didn't seem possible anymore."

"_La __télévision, la radio_, zhat is all modern. When did he die?"

Savania sighed. "9/11."

France's face dropped. "Oh _mon __Dieu __chérie_. What on earth was he doing in America?"

"Gathering intel," was Savi's unfunny laugh of a reply. "He was working undercover inside the World Trade Center. We were actually planning on revealing ourselves then. His death postponed that, so powerful the election of his son as prime minister was nearly a unanimous parliamentary vote."

"But you are here now. Why did you change your mind?"

Savi's tone darkened. "Civil war. Ever since my birth, my people have had different views on our secrecy. It's why my eyes are different colors. Charlie's passing bought me grieving time. But my people, lately, have been getting. . . unruly. If I didn't reveal myself peacefully, half my island would have seceded and we'd all be discovered in the process. The past few years have been scary for me to say the least."

"And now?"

"Now the _other_ half is cross with me, but there's nothing either of us can do about it."

France chortled and put an arm around her shoulder. "Being a country is never easy, _ma chérie_. But it is worth it."

**~Hetalia~**

"You look nervous, _chérie_."

Savania jumped, having had the wits scared out of her, caught red-handed in the middle of a kitchen raid. "I am."

"_Pourquoi?_"

She sighed. France sat her down on his couch, with Florence, Venice, and Savi's other dog Rome lying on the floor. "Because I'm going to America tomorrow," she replied frankly. "I've heard a lot about him, and not all of it good. The fact that he didn't exactly sign the treaty[4] doesn't help."

France only smiled. "He's not so bad once you get used to him~!" Of course he was lying to make her feel better; inwardly France was bidding her_ bon chance_. America was truly the ass of the world, there was no mistaking it. "Here, let me distract you. Who do you love? Beside _moi_ of course, there must be someone that catches your eye?"

Another sigh. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"_Oui, je promets!_"

"Well. . . For a long time now I've had this crush. . . ."

"_Oui~?_" France prompted eagerly.

Savania's cheeks turned red. "On Italy. . .[5]"

"Oh _petit pays_! I _must_ know! Tell me more!"

But alas, sleep tugged at her eyelids, and Savania had to go to bed or else she'd be too tired to wake up in the morning. "I would, but I have to get up early. I should probably head back to bed," she yawned.

To her surprise, France lifted her up bridal style and carried her to the guest bedroom. Of course he had that same lusty grin on his face, but Savania knew he wouldn't do anything to her. Unlike the other countries, she understood that France wasn't a rapist, just a little. . . "uninhibited". He laid her on the bed and kissed her cheek before murmuring, "_Bonne nuit, ma petit pays. . . ._"

Savi let out another yawn. "_Bonne nuit_, France. . . ."

Standing in the doorway he added, "Our conversation is not over!"

But she was already fast asleep. France smiled warmly, shut off the light, and gently closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p>[1] In the late 1800's, namely the 80's and 90's, the demand for working dogs and horses skyrocketed, and Savania had its big "Kennel Boom", resulting in the national emblem (golden pawprint) and animal (dog).<p>

[2] Savania is known for being a relatively flat country, with the only important area above sea-level being Highshore, a short stretch of seaside cliffs that slope gently downward on its inland side. Some inland areas are even below sea-level, leading to Savania as a person to be afraid of heights.

[3] In the last thirty years of the 20th century, Savania met a technological revolution in which one man (and his team of course), Charles Murray, was able to discreetly connect his country with the rest of the world. Savania was then provided with international television and radio—adding to the already large local broadcasting—along with the Internet. With this new advance, the government began to wonder whether it would be wise to present itself.

[4] The American constitution outlaws the signing of any international treaties or agreements. Though the individual states are allowed to decide that for themselves, the country as a whole may not perform such actions. As such, all Savi had was America's word, and the flimsiness understandably made her nervous.

[5] Ever since Savania's birth, she's had a fascination with Italy. Given that the captain and a good number of _la Signora_'s (the second ship that crashed upon her shores) passengers were of Italian or Italian-Australian descent, a large amount of Savania's culture is Italian inspired. Not only this, but his interesting history captivated her, and she developed a strong admiration for the older country. This is also the reason for her naming her dogs after famous Italian cities (if you hadn't noticed that already X3).


End file.
